


The Reaper of Pompeii

by LLReid



Category: Ancient Roman Religion & Lore, Bloodbound (Visual Novels)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, I wrote this instead of sleeping but who needs sleep anyway, Implied/Referenced Abuse, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, REQUEST!!, Redemption, Same-Sex Marriage, Trauma, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LLReid/pseuds/LLReid
Summary: Inspired by; Safe & Sound by Julia Sheer {Taylor Swift cover}~~~~~It was so strange to her that she was even considering discussing her time in Pompeii. She’d staked men in the chest for even uttering the moniker The Reaper of Pompeii in her presence. She’d once smashed a wine bottle and slashed Gaius on the cheek with a shard of broken glass for taunting her with it... and he’d retaliated, of course. She’d walked away worse than he did, of course. Yet here she was, cocooned in her wife’s arms and crying like a child over her own misdeeds... and despite how much she feared telling her story, she knew that she needed to get it off her chest or it would haunt her for another thousand years.
Relationships: Kamilah Sayeed/Anastasia Sayeed, Kamilah Sayeed/Main Character (Bloodbound)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	The Reaper of Pompeii

**Author's Note:**

> PROMPT: saw this prompt on tumblr-“What happened back then?”so can you like maybe write an angst w fluff ending type of one shot based on that

“What did you do in Pompeii, Kamilah?,” Anastasia asked softly, her lips pressed against Kamilah’s trembling shoulder as she soothingly rubbed her back over the top of her silk slip nightgown. “What happened back then?”

“Don’t make me say it.” Kamilah hugged her knees tighter to her chest and shook her head, the tears that hadn’t stopped since she’d woken up screaming from her nightmares now dripping off of her chin. “Can’t you just look into my mind and see for yourself?”

“No,” whispered the Bloodkeeper. Her hand glided down her sweat slicked arm and folded over her hand. Her fingers laced with hers, their palms kissing. She could feel the fast thud of her heart through that single touch. “Just because I can do something doesn’t mean I should. It doesn’t make it the right thing to do.”

Kamilah shuddered at her wife’s words. She knew Anastasia wasn’t trying to make her feel guilty but that sentence— that sentence had haunted her for thousands of years. Just because one can do something, doesn’t mean that they should. It was all so simple in hindsight. If only, if only, if only. But hindsight had never done anyone any favours. “If I tell you what happened in Pompeii you will never look at me the same way again.” She rested her forehead against her knees and took a deep breath to try to compose herself, before continuing, “I was at my worst in Pompeii, Annie. My darkest. My most evil—“

“You are many things, sweetheart, but evil is not one of them.” Anastasia gently brushed her hair behind her ear and Kamilah leaned into the touch. “Evil people don’t feel this guilty thousands of years after the fact. Evil people aren’t haunted by their actions.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. Not really.” Kamilah turned her face to look at the love of her life, her vision blurry through her tears. She was beautiful in a dramatic, romantic way, even after being woken up at such an ungodly hour. Her face could inspire gothic novels from long ago. If Helen of Troy’s face could launch a thousand ships, Anastasia Sayeed’s face could launch a thousand stories, all filled with lust, heartache, and death. “Vengeance was a terrible prison and spite was the fuel I thought would right all my wrongs. But like any fuel, it can consume you. It consumed me... made me a monster.”

“I can help you, you know," she said so sincerely Kamilah felt she had no choice but to believe her. Her hand ran through her hair, over her shoulder, down her arm. “Stop pretending I’m not what you need.” 

"I’m scared,” she confessed quietly.

"I know... but facing your fears is important if you want to heal from them. Even the little ones can cripple us. You don’t have to talk about it if you really don’t want to— if you’re really not ready to yet, my love. But if you are ready and are just afraid of what I’ll think, don’t be. You know that you can talk to me about anything and I’ll listen. I’m not here to judge you. My feelings for you are not conditional. I love you,” Anastasia told her. “Please know that.” 

“I know that,” Kamilah said. Her first encounter with her had planted a seed and she had no idea back then how fast and lush it would grow inside of her. She was tangled in love, hopelessly, as it continued to grow over her like a beautiful weed, ruthless to the root. She continued, “And I don’t want you to love me from afar. I want you to love me, right here, in my arms. I want to tell you what happened but at the same time... I don’t want you to know who I was. I try and try to forget what happened in Pompeii but I can’t. There’s no running from it and I— you can’t promise me you won’t be sickened by me when you find out I— There are just some things in the dark that you’re not meant to see.”

She cut herself off abruptly as a choked sob wracked through her and Anastasia gently guided her into her arms, holding her face in the warm crook of her neck as she cried. This was her taking her heart out of her chest and putting the bloody mess in Anastasia’s hands. This was a side of her that nobody else had ever been allowed to see. Even in her mortal life she had never allowed anyone to see her crying like this. She was at her weakest, her most vulnerable. She couldn’t give much more than that. This woman was like a riptide and Kamilah was just a woman without oars.

It was so strange to her that she was even considering discussing her time in Pompeii. She’d staked men in the chest for even uttering the moniker The Reaper of Pompeii in her presence. She’d once smashed a wine bottle and slashed Gaius on the cheek with a shard of broken glass for taunting her with it... and he’d retaliated, of course. She’d walked away worse than he did, of course. Yet here she was, cocooned in her wife’s arms and crying like a child over her own misdeeds... and despite how much she feared telling her story, she knew that she needed to get it off her chest or it would haunt her for another thousand years. 

Anastasia was the only person she felt safe enough with to talk about this. The last thing she wished to do was use her wife as a therapist but she was person that knew her inside and out. The person who had seen her at her ugliest and most beautiful and still wanted to be with her. The person who believed in her and had her back, no matter what. With her, it was totally different to how it had been before. She might have been young but her soul spoke to her’s. Her soul was bright yet weathered, having endured so much and come out of it still willing to shine. With her, she could just be herself. She didn’t have to pretend. She didn’t have to guard herself. The damaged part of her mind screamed that maybe she should, but if she did then she couldn’t feel half of what she was feeling... and she would never give that up.

She knew what she was about to do, and a sob bubbled up, tearing from her throat as she sensed the mere inches separating her mouth from the abyss. But she was not running from something. She was running to something better. Absolution. She had red hair and a sunshine smile. Love either made you afraid or brave. For once in her life, she was choosing to be truly brave. To own up to her mistakes. With a deep breath she said, “The mortals called me The Reaper of Pompeii.”

“The Reaper of Pompeii,” Anastasia echoed, the hand that was soothingly stroking her hair never once stilling.

Kamilah shuddered at the sound of the name leaving Anastasia’s lips and she screwed her eyes shut tight, her face still hidden against her neck. “I cast a reign of terror over the city, the likes of which Rome had never seen. I then destroyed any evidence of my crimes so that history would have no idea of the things I’ve done, not knowing the city would be wiped away anyway and destroying things wasn’t really necessary.”

“What did you do, Kamilah?”

“I ran away from Gaius and tried to settle down in Pompeii, thinking he’d never find me there — but he did, of course,” she said after a long moment. “My intentions were truly noble at first... but what good is safety if you're dead inside? I wanted a life but I quickly realised I had no real skills beyond the battlefield and would rather have hurled myself into the midday sun than become a Roman housewife... so I started to steal.” Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed thickly. “I stole because I was good at it. I stole because I got pleasure from it. I stole because I hated the Romans and I hated mortals... and Roman Mortals were little more than beasts in my eyes. One of them took my brother from me... and I was broken enough that I hated them all because of one person’s actions.”

Anastasia pressed a kiss against her ear and held her tighter as another sob wracked through her body. It was so scary, opening herself up to the hurt. But even if she didn’t, she knew she’d hurt anyway. She couldn’t hold on to these memories any longer because these memories were just fire and would burn in her hands. She couldn’t hold a dagger if her hands were ruined.

“But it didn’t stop there. I wish it had stopped at stealing but I was so angry at the world. I was a terrible person who did terrible things to other people. A slave to hate because hate was strong, and I sacrificed love and any humanity I had left in me to fuel it,” she continued. “I spiralled out of control. Went mad with my own power, the strength that Gaius tried so hard to keep underfoot. Without him around to temper my rage it didn’t take long before I started thinking of the mortals in the city as my possessions, and once stolen, I didn’t relinquish what was mine — to anyone. Not for anything. I had lost my freedom for so many years, lived locked up in a gilded cage. But I emerged with the black eyes and a blacker soul... and no idea how to live a life without killing. As much as I hated him, his absence was present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird stalking the skies.”

“So you started killing people?,” Anastasia whispered.

“I started hunting people.” 

“Hunting people?”

She nodded, her breath practically stopping and every muscle in her body tensing at once as Anastasia’s hand stilled for a few seconds before resuming the soothing strokes through her hair. The Bloodkeeper didn’t say anything, waiting patiently for Kamilah to continue as the ancient vampire silently prayed to the gods she hadn’t believed in since her mortal life. She asked them to give her strength, not to be better than her enemies, but to defeat her greatest enemy, the doubts within herself. Give her strength for a straight back and clear eyes, so when this vail of secrecy she’d cast over her time in Pompeii at last faded, as the setting sun, her spirit may emerge without shame.

This guilt wasn’t merely an emotion. It was a living, breathing organism. It was another version of herself living deep inside of her, screaming so loud sometimes that she wished she could tear off her skin and let her escape. But she couldn’t do that, could she? The darkest part of her mind screamed at her to stay silent, that there was nothing she could do to silence her. Nothing at all. 

Over the years there had been things that she thought might help her. Wicked, beautiful things. Sex. Narcotics. Alcohol. More killing. They all sang their sweet siren songs to her, hoping she couldn’t recognise the evil underneath it all. They were a temptress, promising to alleviate her chronic pain, promising her the sort of soft, warm hug that only Anastasia could give her. They had all promised her the world. And they delivered. They always kept their promises. Maybe for a moment, maybe for a few hours, they let her be taken by the undertow. That was why she had kept going back instead of ever actually opening up like she was trying to do now. Because they didn’t lie. And because the next day the guilt had multiplied. She was an even worse person than she was before, as if that was even possible. As if the hate inside her for herself could ever deepen. But it did. Again and again. Day in and day out. And there had only been one way to get through it until finding someone who was actually willing to listen to what she had to say. And that was to dull the pain. Mask the sorrow. Numb the hate. She’d done it to herself again. Until it had somehow consumed the rest of her life. But she no longer wanted it to be the rest of her life.

“When I left my home at night, I killed whoever was foolish enough to so much as breathe in my direction. Men, mostly. Soldiers were the ones I hated the most, so I tended to go after them,” she said quietly, glancing up at Anastasia’s face for the first time since she’d began talking. Something inside her wife’s heart was bleeding for her. It was a nasty cut in the heart, a slow, deadly leak. It was like she felt everything. Like Kamilah was making her feel everything. “It makes me sound… self-important. Like a drunk driver who seems to have no regard for traffic lights, or other cars, or pedestrians, or roads, or even life itself. Like I thought I was special.”

She touched her cheek, saw her own hand shake, and quickly pulled it back. Anastasia wouldn’t allow her to retreat from her, though. She gently took her by the wrist and placed her palm back against her cheek, and closed her eyes like she was in agony. Or bliss. Or maybe both. Like she’d never been touched before.

“And did you think you were special?,” she asked after a moment.

“Indeed,” she sighed, her eyes fluttering closed in a fruitless bid to stop the tears. As she spoke, her fingers trailed down her arm. She was just so relieved she was still willing to touch her after she’d told her this. She turned her hand over and traced the fine lines on her palm and Kamilah continued, “I thought I was a god amongst men... and I was. The mortals had no idea what had hit them and could have no defence. I was untouchable. But what I didn’t know then was that I was fooling myself as much as I was fooling everyone else. When you con for revenge, you wont know when you’ve won. You won’t know when to stop.”

Anastasia sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind her ears and rested her forehead against hers, their noses touching. She opened her eyes to see her staring at her with such tenderness it made her heart bleed. For the first time, she had a protector — and she never knew she needed one until she’d found her. The world was a merciless place. Hard and cruel. Except when you found someone to trust and love. Life, however fleeting, possessed meaning then.

“I don’t even know why I did it, other than revenge,” she whispered. “I was so angry at everything and everyone but that’s... that’s not an excuse. I killed innocent people and I— I didn’t do it quickly. They suffered. They suffered as I had suffered—“ She cut herself off with a loud sob and Anastasia drew face back towards her neck, cradling her there in her embrace. “I think sometimes that I might’ve wanted them to capture me because I was too cowardly to kill myself and end my own suffering. I just— I didn’t— Here's the thing about being alone. You're not. You have your demons with you... and I let mines control me. I can’t even blame Gaius for what I did... this was all me. I knew it was wrong but the heart doesn’t listen to reason. It has a mind of its own and the last thing it will do before it feels something is consult with you on whether or not to feel it.”

“Trauma changes people, my love. Whilst it might not be an excuse for the things you did, it is an explanation,” Anastasia soothed. “Hurt people... hurt people.”

Kamilah sniffled and nodded her head. “I wish I could take it all back. I became the monster he wanted me to be and he wasn’t even around to see it. The things he put me through may have sparked the transformation but I chose to kill all of those people. Me.”

“How many were there?”

“A lot.” She sighed. “It only took Gaius six months to find me once the news of the murders in Pompeii reached Rome and when he did—“ She shivered and her muscles stiffened up at the memory of how Gaius had punished her for running away, for almost exposing herself as a vampire to the mortals. “It— He made sure I suffered enough to never act out again... and I deserved it.”

“Kami—“

“Don’t say I didn’t deserve it because we both know I did,” she interjected. “In this incidence I deserved his version of justice and much more. Time is an incubator. In some cases, it changes people. In others, it lets things grow and hatch. Too much time and it turns into a monster — that’s what it did to me. I was innocent, once.”

“Kami,” Anastasia said, holding her gaze. “What you did was terrible, there’s no denying that and there’s no getting around that. There’s no excuses. But this isn’t all black and white. Like I said, your trauma explains it but it doesn’t excuse it.”

“What are you getting at here?”

“You were an extremely traumatised person and it is a very natural trait to destroy that which frightens us. You’d ran away from your abuser and were stuck in a land ruled by the people who had killed your brother and your father, and dismantled your family’s empire. What do people who start to fall do? They lash out. They focus, so sharply, on the things that went wrong in their lives and the people who wronged them. They don’t look inward to see what they might’ve done that could’ve contributed to the way they are thinking or feeling. They look outward and they blame the rest of the world because it’s the easiest thing to do.” Anastasia pressed a tender kiss to her brow and then she smiled, recognising her even after hearing what she had just heard. Kamilah’s breath hitched in her throat, like it really hit her, and she’d somehow never thought she could so much like an angel. She was glowing. And her radiance was breaking her heart. “Who you were then and who you are now are two completely different people. You’ve atoned for your mistakes, sweetheart. You’ve grown. You’ve changed. You’ve done even more good than bad.”

“But it cant give those people their lives back,” Kamilah sighed.

“No, it can’t.” Anastasia caressed her wet cheek and gently wiped her tears away with her thumbs, and Kamilah let her. Even whilst she was in such a state, she made her want to live life. Anyone who was capable of saving her this way, she deserved temples devoted to her or something. That was how the Taj Mahal got started, she was sure. “Nothing can give those people their lives back,” Anastasia continued, “but it’s important to note that there are more people alive today because you had a hand in saving them than you have ever killed. Every person alive right now owes their life, in part, to you.”

Kamilah’s brow furrowed. “You’re the one who defeated Rheya. You’re the one who killed Gaius. You’re the one who stopped a clan war tear apart Manhattan and united The Clanless with The Council. You’re the one who keeps the peace between us and the mortals—“

“And none of those things would’ve been possible without you,” Anastasia interjected, her tone firm enough that it left no room for argument. “I may have been the one who delivered the final blows in all of those battles but it took all of us to get to a point where winning was even possible. You’ve done good in this life, Kami, and not for recognition or glory... but because you knew it was the right thing to do. We both have roles to play, roles that were handed to us. But they don’t have to define us. And they don’t have to contain us.”

Kamilah swallowed thickly. The connection between them was tight and frightening, and the intimacy was nearly too much for her heart to swallow.

“You are in the midst of uncovering yourself. Right here, right now. You will discover who you are. You will flourish.” She pressed another kiss to her brow. “I see it happening before my eyes. And it’s all you. You are not a bad person. Yes, you’ve made mistakes and done things you wish you hadn’t. But who you are now, who you’ve fought to become, she’s no monster. She’s the best person I’ve ever known.”

A startled laugh escaped from the back of Kamilah’s throat. “You still think that after everything I’ve just told you?”

“I do,” Anastasia said without missing a beat. “But it doesn’t matter what I believe or who I see when I look at you. If you can’t recognise that you have changed, that you’re no longer the same broken person you were in Pompeii, none of that will matter. There’s no use dwelling on the things you could have changed. Believe me. Too much reflection on all the could-haves and should-haves will only hold you in your past. All that matters is what happens with the here and now. The past is just ground beneath your feet, there to hold you up or be left behind. You’ve carried this with you for so long... it’s time to forgive yourself. You’ve more than earned that forgiveness.”

“I— thank you.”

“Thank you for telling me your truth. The truth that hurts the most is always the truth that needs to be told,” Anastasia said softly.

Kamilah gaped at her, the tears flowing down her face now for an entirely different reason. She loved her with every part of her, all the whole parts and the broken parts and the parts that were still mending. With a trembling hand she reached up and caressed her face, and she whispered, “I just… can’t believe I have you.”

“Of course you have me.”

“But I don’t want you just for now,” her voice grew softer, deeper, just as her gaze did. Her heart warmed from those words. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to knowing that she was hers, that even after seeing her at her worst this wonderful woman hadn’t fled in terror. “I want you forever, my love. Just like this. Under this sun, in these arms. With me.”

“You’ll always have me,” Anastasia whispered as she coaxed her down against the pillows and pulled the duvet she’d kicked off around her before laying down beside her. She kissed her and it was like Kamilah’s whole life became condensed to that little flashpoint. It was the sort of kiss that undid her in ways she didn’t see coming. “Now close your eyes,” she breathed against her lips. “It’s time to be free of this pain.”

Kamilah’s eyes fluttered closed to the soft sound of Anastasia’s heart beating and the a Kazakh lullaby that she had taken to singing to her whenever her past began to haunt her dreams. Pleasure suffused her and she snuggled deeper into her arms, her heart clenching when she tightened her hold on her. She didn’t know exactly what it was that she was singing as her fingers gently stroked at her temple, but it helped. The dark thoughts were dropping away, like pebbles plopping one by one in water, sinking down, down into the dark oblivion. To sleep with someone was the sign of ultimate trust. To be defenceless in the presence of another? No. It hadn’t been an option with her past.

Anastasia was the sunrise, the moonrise, all four points of Kamilah’s compass. Her past had always had such a hold on her, like she was stopped at a red light that never seemed to change, waiting for that green light that had never come until she’d found the one person who always managed to see the good in her when she couldn’t see it herself. Sometimes the hope she gave her was like wearing someone else’s coat. She knew it could shield and protect her, just as it did them, but it still didn’t feel right — she was just not used to it, but eventually she would grow accustomed to how it felt on her shoulders.

No matter where she was. Anastasia was under her skin. She was in her bones. She was in the sun, the moon, the light in her darkest nights. Her heart beat in the air she breathed and she didn’t know how she survived this long in the world without it.

All this time, all these years, she’d been looking for someone who would set her world on fire and make her new again.

It’d been her all along.

~ fin.


End file.
